


Promise

by sein_Henker



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Afterlife, Character Death Fix, Death, M/M, Open Relationships, it is SORT OF a Character Death Fix but not really, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:44:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1459759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sein_Henker/pseuds/sein_Henker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm dead, Jack. We'll have a billion deaths together, but we can't have a life together.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

Title: Promise  
Summary: “I'm dead, Jack. We'll have a billion deaths together, but we don't have a life together.”  
Rating: M for talk of death, violence, and sex.   
Word Count: 3,254  
Other Chapters: No.  
Disclaimer: The British Broadcasting Corporation owns Torchwood and all related characters, settings, and trademarks. I do not profit in any way from this material.   
Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones; brief mention of Jack Harkness/Gwen Cooper; Jack Harkness/Other People  
Contains: open relationships, not-a-proper character death fix, discussion of the afterlife, bitter-sweet endings  
Warnings: major character death

~*~

Jack didn't know if it was an act of love or an act of guilt, but the TARDIS had given him one last gift. It came with conditions, of course. Jack wasn't allowed to hurt himself for it. That was fair. Jack could wait. The wait was never long. 

Impermanent death meant waking up surrounded on all sides by endless darkness, and having to find a narrow portal (so narrow that Jack could _just_ fit through it if he turned sideways) back to the land of the living. His only hint as to the location of the portal was pain. The closer he got to the portal, the more he hurt. Sometimes, if the death had been particularly bad even by Jack's standards, the floors moved like a fun-house. Suzie was right, too. There was always something sinister moving in the darkness, and Jack knew, without being quite being sure how he knew, that it wanted him in particular. Jack didn't know what it wanted him for, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't enjoy it, if it ever caught him. Sometimes he was _sure_ that it was getting closer to him, and on a few occasions he'd felt that it was so close to him that he'd been compelled to run from it, but in over two-thousand years of deaths, it hadn't caught him yet. 

Jack was generally eager to get out of that place. Whatever he'd left behind was usually better, if only marginally. He'd only taken his time once (a series of times) before the TARDIS' latest gift, and that was when he was buried beneath Cardiff. He'd only dawdled a bit then because he knew there wasn't any _point_ in hurrying, as he'd just be sent right back here. There was no point in stressing himself out over it. 

The amount of time that he spent here didn't really seem to have any correlation to the amount of time that he was dead for in the world of the living. That was good. These days, he was never in a hurry to get back to the living world. He'd stay in that horrible, endless darkness forever if he could. He just couldn't. The pain always slowly increased, and without moving he'd move toward the portal (or it would move toward him) until it latched onto him and yanked him back into his body whether he wanted to be there or not. 

The first time had been the most terrifying miracle Jack had ever experienced. He'd been lying there in darkness, dizzy and disoriented as he always was, at first, and then he'd felt someone touch him. It was utterly unlike any other touch he'd ever experienced while dead. He could always feel it when living people touched his body. He could connect with them and _feel_ his way back to the land of the living through them. The more intimate the touch, the stronger the sensation. It registered in his brain and he'd turn into it like he'd turn into someone tapping his shoulder, but it didn't actually feel like someone was tapping his shoulder. The tactile sensation wasn't there. _This_ touch was all tactile sensation and no awareness of anything beyond this darkness. 

Someone was squeezing his hand, pressing it to his chest. 

“Come on, Jack.” Jack knew that voice. It wasn't possible, but—

Someone kissed him. Jack knew that kiss. It wasn't possible. 

“I know it hurts, but I want to talk to you. I've missed you.” 

“Where am I?” Jack asked, but he was focusing, and he knew the darkness around him. He couldn't just see darkness, though. Within the darkness, as plainly as he could see himself, he could see Ianto. He was in a black suit with a red shirt and a black tie. Jack smiled. He'd always loved Ianto in red. There was no cut on Ianto's cheek. He looked... perfect. 

“You're dead,” Ianto said, as if it should have been obvious. “Sort of.” 

Jack smirked and sat up slightly. “Just another day at the office, huh?” 

“I suppose,” Ianto said, reaching down and dejectedly fingering a broken and bloody piece of Jack's left brace strap. Jack always appeared here in whatever he'd been wearing when he died. It was a shame. He'd really liked those braces. Ianto always had, too. 

Jack took a deep breath. “You're dead.” 

“Yes,” Ianto said calmly.

“Sort of?” Jack offered hopefully.

“No.” 

“I'm sorry,” Jack said. 

“I happens,” Ianto said. Then he smiled slightly. “I begged you for that job.” 

“I should have gone to the Thames House alone. I could have dealt with the 456 the right way in the 60s. I could have—” 

“You didn't,” Ianto said, sternly but without anger. “And I'm dead. It happens.” 

“Are you trapped here? Was it the House of the Dead?” 

“No!” Ianto said quickly, then in a softer and more soothing voice, he said “No one is trapped. I can't leave any time I like. And I'll have to, the last time you leave—”

“There'll be a last time?” Jack said. 

“Yes,” Ianto said, nodding. “The TARDIS said so. Owen did too, and—“ 

“Owen is here too?!” 

“He's around, but you can't see him,” Ianto said calmly. “I can see Owen—Anyone who's dead for good can see Owen—and you and I and Rex can all see each other, but other than that, people can't see each other here.” 

None of that made sense. 

Ianto was here.

Jack had so many questions.

Ianto was here. 

Jack grabbed Ianto and kissed him. He leaned back and rolled onto his side so that they were cradling each other and their legs were entwined in the darkness. Jack was already starting to feel the slight pressure that would eventually turn into the pain that would _force_ him back to life, but Ianto was here. It didn't just _look_ like Ianto and _sound_ like Ianto... It wasn't a dream. Jack knew every inch of Ianto by touch and taste and smell and that indescribable sixth sense that always makes the people you love utterly unique in the universe to you, and this was Ianto in every way. The arms around Jack held him the way that Ianto held him. The tongue in Jack's mouth moved like Ianto's tongue. The blue eyes that looked directly into Jack's sparkled like Ianto's. Their hearts beat together the way that Jack's heart had always beat with Ianto's. 

Ianto smiled. “You missed me.” 

“Of course I did.”

“You stepped inside the TARDIS and she could feel how much you missed me, so she went and got me for you.” 

That answered at least the 'why' part of this. And it was so like the TARDIS. She'd brought Rose Tyler back when Jack and the Doctor were sure that they'd lost her and devastated because of it, and she'd sensed how upset Jack was at losing Ianto, even years after it had happened when Jack finally re-entered the TARDIS, and she'd brought him back to Jack. 

Jack smiled. “She spoke to you?” 

Ianto nodded. “She pulled me out of the House of the Dead. Out of the Rift. And then Owen came to collect me—”

“— _Owen_ came to collect you?” 

“Yeah, he's the Grim Reaper now,” Ianto said, in a tone of voice that under most other circumstances would be entirely appropriate for a quick note that an old mutual acquaintance had changed careers, but that in this instance seemed entirely out of place. “So he came and—” 

“—Wait. How?” Jack asked. 

“You brought him back from the dead and he defeated Death,” Ianto said.

“He _killed_ Death? But people were still dying—”

“—He didn't kill Death. He just defeated Death. Showed Death that he was stronger and sent Death back to the darkness. I think the old guy just started to feel like it was all a bit pointless after that. So when Owen died, he turned up like he was going to reap Owen and Owen reaped him instead.” 

“They fought again after the power plant meltdown?” 

Ianto shrugged. “Owen says they didn't. He said that after the melt down, he and the old guy were face-to-face, and the old guy just... tossed Owen his scythe. Like he wanted it, or at least was accepting it. And I guess that makes sense. The old guy didn't _have_ to go to Owen when he did. He had all the time in the universe. He went because he wanted to... And then Owen just knew what to do and did it. For the old guy. For you. For Tosh. For Gwen. For Martha...” Gwen and Martha weren't dead, and Jack was _definitely_ not properly dead, but Jack didn't think much of it. No perception of linear time. They'd covered that already. “He says the old guy got Suzie, and that's probably for the best. Now he'll just go get anyone.” 

“He... got you...” 

“Yes.” 

“Did he...?” Jack made a slicing motion across his throat. 

“No,” Ianto said. “Turns out that isn't what the scythe was for. People don't need help dying. They just sort of do that. They're for those.” Ianto pointed off to his right. 

Jack looked, but all he could see was darkness. “I can't see what you're pointing at.” 

“The passageways. You came out of it. You have to go back through it.” The realization dawned on Ianto and he sighed. “Right. You can't see them. No one can see them until Owen shows them and Owen can't show you. Alright. They're how people cross over. Usually they just appear when people die, and Owen just has to lead them through them, but sometimes things go wrong and they don't appear—Owen thinks it's because energy gets lost in the rifts—so Owen has to sort of cut one in himself to get people through.” 

“So he's running around in robes and carrying a scythe?” 

“No,” Ianto said, smirking a little. “He's dressed like himself, it's just all black. He still has skin, too. And the scythe... He said it was cool, but not very practical. He could do the job better with a switchblade, so it turned into one for him...” 

Jack and Ianto stared at each other for a few seconds. Jack didn't really know what the appropriate response here was. 

“He says he likes it,” Ianto said, sensing Jack's mixed feelings. “It's not like killing. He says he sees it as helping people through something difficult. And he kind of is. _I_ was glad to see him. You will be too. He makes you feel a lot better about the whole thing—”

“What 'whole thing'?” 

“Dying,” Ianto said calmly. “Actually dying. Not like this. Ceasing to be, the way that Tosh and Lisa and Suzie have... That way that everyone will, and already has, I guess.”

“What happens?” Jack asked. 

“It's not so bad,” Ianto said. “We just get... recycled.” 

“Reincarnated?” 

Ianto shook his head. “It's more like recycling, because you won't come out as the same thing. You soul gets broken down into all of its individual parts—whatever parts a soul is made up of—and combined with parts from other people to make something entirely new. We're all made up of bits of kings and poets...” 

“And cannibals,” Jack said, hoping that Owen really _would_ be able to make him feel better about it when the time came, because he wasn't keen on the idea at the moment. 

“And me,” Ianto said. He smiled a little. “I was born three-thousand years before you. You might be.” 

“Or you might be made up of me,” Jack said. 

“I came first.” 

“You usually do.” Jack cut off Ianto's reply with a kiss. “There are worse things out there than having you in me.” They smirked at each other. Ianto went in for another kiss, but Jack pulled away slightly. “But I need to understand first. What happened? How did you get here?” 

“The TARDIS pulled me out of the House of the Dead,” Ianto said. “Tore the Rift wide open again when she did so, so if you get bored of running all over the country, you might want to think about reestablishing a Torchwood base in Cardiff—but she said that seal would never have held anyway.” 

“She would say that after breaking it, wouldn't she?” 

Ianto shrugged. “It's open again now either way. Anyway, Owen turned up to collect me, but she wouldn't let him. She said you were sad, and she wanted someone to take care of you. She asked if I was up for the job.” 

“And you said yes?” 

“Of course I did. She told Owen to take me to _your_ portal, because yours is different. This one is always open, and it doesn't go to the right place. It's for people who don't die permanently. Owen showed it to me, and I went through to wait for you. He'll come get me when you die properly, and in the mean time, I'll be here with you.”

“But you'll have to wait for me—”

“No, I won't. I haven't even been here long as it is. The TARDIS wrapped my timeline up with yours—and Rex's, I guess, because his is all tangled up with yours now. You'll die together, when you're finally able to die. Maybe not at the same place but in the same moment—so that I'm only here if one of you is here. I'll never have to wait for you. You'll leave and then you'll come right back. Or Rex'll be here, but I can just lead him right back out.” 

“He'll appreciate that,” Jack said. He and Rex had commiserated about the experience of temporarily dying. Rex was even less fond of it than Jack was. 

They were quiet for a moment, and Jack heard the faint hissing of the creature in the darkness. 

“That thing can't hurt you, can it?” Jack asked Ianto. 

“It can but it won't,” Ianto said. “Owen told it to back off. He seemed pretty confident that it would listen. It's angry, but I don't think it thinks we're worth picking a fight with Owen.” 

“So we're safe... we're alone...” Jack rested his hand on Ianto's chest, and he felt a heartbeat and he realized immediately how wonderfully strange that was. “You're breathing,” he said. “And your heart is beating...” 

“I'm only doing that for you,” Ianto said. “I can stop, if you want.” And he did. Just that quickly, his heart stopped beating and his chest stopped rising and falling beneath Jack's fingers. 

“No!” Jack said. “Keep doing it!” And immediately Ianto's heart began to beat beneath Jack's fingers again.

“You could stop too, if you wanted,” Ianto said. “We don't even have physical bodies here.” 

“I still prefer it when your heart beats...” Jack sighed. 

“I can change clothes for you, too,” Ianto said.

Jack shook his head. “I like this.” He gently pushed Ianto onto his back, unbuttoned and spread Ianto's suit jacket, moved his tie out of the way, and reverently unbuttoned Ianto's shirt. With Ianto's chest exposed to him, he rested his head on Ianto's chest and listened to Ianto's heart beat as the pressure crushing him from all angles rose to pain. He didn't care. He didn't want sex with Ianto nearly as badly as he wanted this. They could have sex some other time. He'd die again soon enough. 

Ianto didn't seem to think there was anything odd about Jack reacting this way. He made himself comfortable and started stroking Jack's hair. _God_. It was like having a painful cavity filled after it had been there for so long you'd _almost_ stopped noticing the pain. Jack wished he'd done this more when Ianto was alive. They'd had a few lazy days around the base, but Jack could count them on one hand. If Jack could go back, he'd spend every quiet morning of their relationship cuddling with Ianto. This was nice, and Jack felt as close to Ianto as he ever had during sex. 

“... I love you,” Jack said, forcing the words out because he _trusted_ the TARDIS and Ianto and Owen in a way that he had never trusted the universe or himself. 

“Really?” Ianto asked.

“Yes.” 

“I love you too.” 

Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist, but Ianto's hand in Jack's hair stilled. “Jack...” Ianto said.

“What?” 

Ianto was quiet for a few seconds as he searched for words. “...There are only two things that I'm afraid of anymore.” 

Throbbing pain. Jack didn't have long. And if Ianto could see the portal, Ianto knew that. “What?” Jack asked, not lifting his ear away from Ianto's beating heart. 

“The first is that one day you'll wake up here, and I'll be here, and you'll wish I was someone else.” 

“That'll never happen.” 

Ianto didn't answer verbally, but his fingers stroked Jack's hair again. Jack didn't think that meant that Ianto believed him, but he knew that it meant that Ianto didn't really want to talk about it right now. 

“The second thing,” Ianto said, sounding more sure of himself, “Is that you'll forget that I'm dead, and you're not.” 

“What's that matter?” Jack asked. “We're here now. Together.” 

“We're here together for brief intervals. You still have a life. I want you to live it. When you're here, we can do anything we like, but I don't want you to live for the days when you die. Promise me you won't do that.” 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Find others. Gwen, if you like. I know you've always wanted to. Or someone else. It doesn't matter to me. And then someone after that and someone after them and... We have each other until the end now. That's not changing, but it isn't all there is for you. I'm dead, and you need to keep living. Promise me.” 

Jack listened to Ianto's heart beat as the pain spread around his body like lava. “That won't hurt you?” 

“What would hurt me,” Ianto said, “Is you sacrificing your life for me. That's not why I'm here. The TARDIS saved me to make your _deaths_ more bearable, not to improve your life. Devoting yourself to a ghost doesn't suddenly become healthy just because you can listen to that ghost's heartbeat. I'm dead, Jack. We'll have a billion deaths together, but we can't have a life together anymore. You need to let yourself have a life with other people. Promise me.” 

Jack nodded. It made sense. This arrangement came with conditions. Of course it did. He thought he could be happy with just this. Just Ianto in the afterlife... but Ianto was right. He couldn't start living for the days when he died. That wasn't healthy. “Okay. I promise.” 

“I love you,” Ianto said again. 

“I love you too.” 

“It's time for you to go now,” Ianto said. “I'll see you soon.” 

Jack's eyes opened and his lungs filled with air. He'd never been less pleased about coming back to life. 

'I'll see you soon.' He should have made Ianto promise.


End file.
